Fireworks (PewdieCry)
by Milk-n-Pork
Summary: It's been a while since Cry has celebrated New Year. He still doesn't want to for certain reasons, but for Pewds he would fight any fear and try not to ruin the blonde's excitement.


Have you ever had those days when you just want to block all noises out from your mind, wanting to scream but knowing it wouldn't make a difference and all you can do is curl into a ball, cupping your ears with an almost painful pressure and squeezing your eyes shut? The noise is excruciating, and you could only whimper and yelp helplessly, lying vulnerably on the ground.

I've always hated the sound of New Year, even as a child. I would hide in my closet and cry while the other children laughed and played and lit up firecrackers like terrorists planting countless bombs that exploded violently. I was the only kid who saw it that way, though.

Minutes after, my mom would open the closet door, pulling me in her arms and hushing me, patting my head comfortingly. She would kneel down, stare at me with that loving and assuring smile, and place her warm palms against the back of my own which were pressed tightly against my ears. Then she would sing me a song.

"A gentle breeze from Hushabye Mountain  
Softly blows o'er Lullaby Bay  
It fills the sails of boats that are waiting  
Waiting to sail your worries away

It isn't far to Hushabye Mountain  
And your boat waits down by the quay  
The winds of night so softly are sighing  
Soon they will fly your troubles to the sea

So close your eyes on Hushabye Mountain  
Wave good...bye to cares of the day  
And watch your boat from Hushabye Mountain  
Sail far away from Lullaby Bay."

And when she finished, I'd realized that the scary sounds had stopped. She would then tuck me in bed, kiss me good night and I would yawn before falling asleep, happy.

It would be New Year again tomorrow… or three hours from now, to be exact. I stood anxiously beside Pewdie, my best friend and boyfriend who leaned relaxedly towards the rails and stared up at the sky, waiting almost giddily for the stroke of midnight to signal the burst of fireworks.

I stared at his gentle smile that never seems to fade, wondering how I would hide my fear of anything loud and startling: firecrackers, thunder, jumpscares… fireworks. This was our first New Year together, and he doesn't know that I still haven't gotten over my childhood phobia. I've spent the past New Years in a door-locked, window-shut and curtain-drawn, isolated soundproof room, except now.

Well, this was Pewds. I'd do everything for him, and I'd most definitely hate to ruin his excitement just because I was chicken.

_It's okay, Cry._ I said to myself. _This is nothing. Just a bunch of sparks and then, they'll be gone like lightning. And the thunder that comes after that… Well, focus on Pewdie. He looks happy, right? You wouldn't want to ruin that, would you? Good._

"Hey, how long until midnight, Cry?"

I glanced at him, shrug before saying, "Hey, don't ask me. Put the watch I gave you to use."

"Oh, right." He laughs at his own stupidity, before checking his watch and smiling widely. "Ooh, any minute now."

And as he said that, as if on cue, the burst of colors exploded in the sky, catching me off-guard and I flinched, clinging to his hand on reflex. His eyes darted towards me in surprise, and I tried to smile at him lovingly, hoping he doesn't notice my startled actions. Fortunately, he didn't.

Instead, he returned the gesture, probably moved by the sudden affection, and shifted his fingers so that our hands interlaced and clasped each other firmly. I took it as an act of comfort, even though he probably didn't mean it that way, but I was relieved that he did that because I knew there would be more fireworks that would scare me out of my wits later.

"It's beautiful…" He uttered, sounding purely awed. For a moment, I forgot my distress and stared at his azure eyes, the vibrant colors reflected in them as he smiled at the sight.

Until a loud boom startled me and I yelped loudly, hugging him tightly in fear. It didn't help when more firecrackers started to explode and the sky flashed white repeatedly with every pop. I shivered through him.

"Hey, what's wrong, bro?" He asked in concern, trying to pull me off of him to look at me, but I held him tight, not wanting him to see me this way. "Are you alright?"

I didn't say a word. What could I say anyway? Surely, I looked cowardly, feminine, and I knew he would mock me about it later but for now, I needed his comfort, his embrace.

For a moment, he was silent, placing his arms around my quivering body and hushing me, probably relishing in my affection. Then he spoke, "Don't worry about it, Cry." He assured, kissing the top of my head lightly. "Let's go back inside."

He pulled away, much to my protest, but still held my hand, caressing the back of my palm with his thumb in assurance, and we went back inside. He sat on the couch, myself following suit.

"Hey," He began, and I held my breath. He found out about my fear. Was he going to mock me about it now? "I'm sorry I never noticed it sooner."

"It's not your fault." I defended. I didn't want him blaming himself again. "I'm really just chickenshit."

"No you're not!" he roared, almost shouting at me. Then, he blushed and apologized, and I just nodded; he was only being caring to me, it wasn't his fault. "I mean, I can understand why you're scared." He scooted closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

"Hey, are you silently making me look more like the uke?" I asked, raising a brow and leaning away.

"But you are!" he retorted, before smirking. "You said so yourself. You make a 'badass uke', right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever."

"There's this lullaby my mom used to sing to me, when I was scared." He began, and I looked at him with wide eyes. So him too, huh? "It's called 'Jag Vet en Dejlig Rosa'."

"Which means…?"

"'I Know of a Lovely Rose'."

"Will you sing it for me?" I requested, wanting to hear his Swedish accent. It was rare for him to speak Swedish.

He looked surprised that I would ask him that. After thinking for a moment, he nodded. "Sure." He said, and then cleared his throat. I snuggled closer to him, closing my eyes as I listened to his voice.

"Jag vet en dejlig rosa, och vit som liljeblad.  
När jag på henne tänker, så görs mitt hjärta glad.  
Dess stämma ger en hjärtans tröst, likt näktergalens blida röst,  
så hövisk och så ljuv.

Som solen fagert skiner, är hon som purpur klar.  
Gud låt dig aldrig sörja, men alltid vara glad!  
Må de få komma samman med hjärtans fröjd och gamman,  
som längta till varann!

Var dag går solen neder och dagelig uppgår.  
När kommer dagen blider, att jag dig skåda får?  
I hågen är du städs mig när.  
Farväl, farväl, min hjärtlig kär!  
Mångtusende godnatt!"*

"Good night." was what I last heard, before I fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

- End -

*Translation of the song:

I know of a lovely rose, she is white as the lily's petal.  
It gladdens my heart to think of her.  
Her voice gives great solace, like the gentle sound of the nightingale,  
so courteous and delightful.

Alike the fair sunshine, she is bright as purple.  
God let you never sorrow, but always be merry!  
May they come together with joyful hearts,  
who long for each other!

Each day the sun goes down, each day it rises.  
When will the clear day come again, that I can behold you?  
You are always close to me in my mind.  
Farewell, farewell, my beloved!  
Many thousands of goodnights!

A/N: If you want to give the songs a listen:

Hushabye Mountain: watch?v=kNCUuz4P3q8  
I Know of a Lovely Rose: watch?v=Xq7yXqC_1uY


End file.
